


A Fine Line

by lisakodysam, Nasty Nathaniel Howe (lisakodysam)



Category: Dragon Age
Genre: Domination, F/M, Mild S&M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-25
Updated: 2011-05-25
Packaged: 2017-10-19 19:09:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/204253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lisakodysam/pseuds/lisakodysam, https://archiveofourown.org/users/lisakodysam/pseuds/Nasty%20Nathaniel%20Howe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nathaniel teaches his Commander a lesson or two.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Fine Line

Jeni Mahariel had quickly discovered that being the new Warden-Commander of Ferelden was not as prestigious and glory-filled as she had been led to believe. Her new home, the Warden HQ at Vigil's Keep, was a shambles. The walls were crumbling, the basement kept caving in, and she and Seneschal Varel had a veritable mountain of tedious paperwork to go through.

Once the Wardens had cleared the darkspawn from, and sealed off, the basement, Jeni had decided to use it for storage, and there she sat, trying to take an inventory. She'd already been down there for close to four hours, and didn't seem to have made a dent in the sheer amount of useless crap the Wardens had at their disposal.

Three large wooden crates stood piled high against a wall. She decided to take stock of them and then call it a night. She reached for the uppermost crate, hoping it wasn't too heavy. As she hauled it down to the floor, she realised that the crates had been concealing a large, metal door. Suddenly excited that something vaguely interesting had happened, she dragged the other crates out of the way and studied the door.

It was quite a work of art, in a grim sort of way. It was made of cast iron, and appeared to be extremely heavy. Its border was studded and further embellishments of twisted cast iron ran in two thick lines spanning the upper and lower sections of the door. The architrave was also made of cast iron, and was embossed on either side with the Howe family crest, as were most of the fixtures and fittings at Vigil's Keep.

A huge, rusted padlock prevented ingress. She took out the lock-picking implements from her belt and set to work. After successfully picking the lock, she removed the padlock and turned the knob. She heard the latch click but the door was either jammed, or too heavy for her to push open. Looking around for something to help, she remembered the crowbar she'd used to open the crates, retrieved it, wedged it firmly between the door and the architrave, and pushed against it with all of her might.

She felt the door give a little, and pushed again, worried that the crowbar might snap. After several attempts, the door finally groaned open, revealing a pitch-black chamber. She grabbed a torch from one of the wall sconces in the basement and stepped inside. She could just make out what at first appeared to be a bed…no, not a bed, she thought. What is that?

She walked closer, feeling apprehensive without knowing why. As she neared, a small exclamation escaped from her throat as she looked down at what she had previously thought was a bed.

I've seen one of these before, she thought. At the Arl of Denerim's estate. Yes, Bann Sighard's son was chained to it…some kind of torture table. A…rack?

She felt along the wall with her hand and placed the torch into one of the sconces. She exited the room and brought three more torches in, leaving the basement in near darkness, but lighting up the chamber. She stood at its centre and looked around in horrified awe.

It was a torture chamber, containing not one, but two racks; a spiked metal chair, two metal cages suspended from the ceiling; and on the floor sat a foot press, a Scottish boot and a headcrusher.

Jeni shuddered and walked over to the far wall, the entire length of which was dotted with hooks, from which hung various other implements: thumbscrews, nipple clamps, rope, whips, riding crops, pliers, tongs, stilettos and daggers; all perfectly preserved and oiled.

Thankfully, there were no traces of blood anywhere. The chamber and its implements were spotlessly clean, and had obviously been a source of pride and joy to someone. Her attention turned to the daggers, some of which were exquisitely crafted. She took a particularly beautiful one and turned it over in her hand.

"Found Father's old 'rumpus room' did you?"

The dagger clattered to the ground as she spun around, startled.

"Nate!" she cried, clutching her stomach. "You frightened the life out of me!"

He stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame with his arms folded. "I haven't seen this place since I was a teenager," he said quietly, looking around the chamber. "Still exactly as I remember it," he added, with a strange smile on his face.

Jeni picked up the dagger and returned it to its place. "Your father let you come in here while he…"

"Oh yes," replied Nate, walking towards her. "He thought it would be a good education for me. I found it quite fascinating, actually."

"Fascinating?" asked Jeni, taken aback. "In what way?"

"Oh, don't get me wrong," he replied. "I didn't have the stomach for some of the more…intensive sessions. But I was always interested in some of the men's reactions to the punishment they received. I remember this one man who had committed a minor offence of some kind. Father told me to use this on him," he said, removing a riding crop from a hook.

He swished it through the air, the noise causing Jeni to jump. "They stripped him of his leggings and smallclothes and lay him face down on the rack," he remembered, "and I had to obtain a confession from him. I started off lightly at first – may I demonstrate?" he walked behind her and tapped the back of her legs with the crop.

"Like that, you see? That didn't hurt, did it?"

Jeni shook her head and smiled.

"Well, I didn't get much of a reaction from that, so I…just come over here for a minute." He led her over to the rack and motioned for her to bend over it.

"Nate, I don't know…" she said hesitantly.

"I just want to demonstrate. You can tell me to stop at anytime," he replied with a grin.

"All right," she said as she bent over, watching him like a hawk. "But you're going back in that cell if you hurt me."

He moved closer to her and whispered "I won't do anything you won't like; gentleman's honour." He took a step back and flexed the crop. "Next, I tried a little more pressure. Like this."

He rapped her firmly across the buttocks, through her leggings, causing her to wince slightly. "See, that wasn't too bad, was it?" he asked.

"No, I suppose not," she replied. "So how did the man react that time?"

"Well," said Nate, his eyes lighting up. "Something unexpected happened. When I struck him, he made a groaning noise…almost as though he enjoyed it."

"Really?" Jeni asked in disbelief, turning around to face him.

"Stay where you are," he said firmly, turning her back around. "I haven't finished the demonstration, yet."

He took another step back. "So I decided to let him have it…"

"Wait, Nate!" she cried. "You promised not to do anything I wouldn't like!"

"And I intend to keep that promise," he replied as he hit her hard across the buttocks.

"That bloody hurt, Nate!" she cried angrily, wheeling round. "What are you playing at?"

He walked right up to her, placing the riding crop on the rack behind her, moving his hands to her buttocks. "The pleasure comes afterwards, you see," he whispered, caressing her softly. "The strike makes the skin so sensitive to touch. Don't you agree?"

He was right. Her breath came out raggedly as her throbbing skin strained to meet his achingly delicate touch.

"You see," he murmured, his own breathing now irregular to match her own, "a fine line exists between pleasure and pain. Shall I demonstrate again?"

Jeni took a deep breath. "Yes, please," she said quietly, and turned around again.

"I think," Nate said, "that the demonstration will be more effective if I strike bare skin. Your leggings are deadening the sensation. May I?"

Jeni nodded her head slowly, as Nate gently pulled down her leggings, leaving her panties where they were.

"Ready, Commander?"

She nodded and braced herself, yelling out as he delivered three fast, hard blows to her bare skin. She bit her lip and sobbed as tears sprang into her eyes.

"Shh," Nate said softly, helping her to stand and turn around, once more gently stroking her tender skin with one hand. "A fine line also exists between tears and laughter," he whispered, as he brushed her tears away with the other hand. "Would you like me to stop now?"

He stood very close to her now, and she could feel his hardness pressing against her pubis. "No," she said softly, "but no harder than that."

"I am no barbarian, my dear Commander. I will leave no lasting marks on your beautiful skin." He left the room for a moment, fetched on old blanket from out of one of the crates, and laid it across the rack. He lifted her onto it so she sat on the edge, and removed her boots and leggings from around her ankles. Her hands went to her tunic and she lifted it above her head. She wore nothing beneath.

His eyes took on a hungry look as they travelled down her body and back up to her face. "This behaviour is highly inappropriate for the Commander of the Grey," he intoned seriously. "As your second in command, I hereby relieve you of your duties! I am now the Warden-Commander of Ferelden, and you shall address me as such! Is that clear?"

"Yes, Commander!" she replied, grinning widely as he helped to swing her legs up onto the rack.

"Onto your front!" he commanded, to which she complied. He ran his hand slowly down Jeni's back and skimmed over her swollen cheeks, eliciting a moan from her. He withdrew his hand and began to remove his own clothing, letting it fall to the floor. He stood in front of her, engorged, and, using the riding crop, brushed a stray strand of blonde hair away from her face.

"So who's going to relieve you of command, Nate?" teased Jen.

He climbed up onto the rack and straddled her buttocks, leaned down and yanked her hair, forcing her to look at him. "Did I give you leave to speak?" he growled, "and you will address me as Commander!"

"No, Commander! I'm sorry, Commander!" she replied contritely, with a hint of laughter in her voice.

"Now to finish my demonstration," he said, parting her legs slightly so he could kneel between them.

"For insubordination, just now, and for conduct unbecoming a former Warden-Commander, I sentence you to a dozen lashes! Have you anything to say in your defence?"

"Nothing, Commander!" she replied. "I deserve everything I get!"

"Very well," he said solemnly. "May the Maker have mercy on your soul."

"It's the Creators, actually," she corrected with a grin.

"Silence!" he boomed and raised the crop into the air, bringing it down with a little less force than before, taking care not to hit previously struck areas.

She grimaced and lurched forward with each stroke, her knuckles turning white as she grasped the edge of the rack.

Her punishment complete, Nate removed the clip from his hair and shook it loose. He leaned in close to her, and trailed his hair slowly down her back and buttocks, then back up again. Jeni moaned loudly as he reached the nape of her neck and planted a soft kiss there.

"Do that again, please, Commander!" she pleaded.

"Very well, as you bore your punishment with such grace," he replied, and once more dragged his hair down the length of her body, her inflamed and tender skin crying out for its featherlight touch.

"Again, please!" she begged.

"Enough!" he cried. "I am giving the orders here! Now, get onto your hands and knees, at once!"

"Yes, Commander!" she replied, and enthusiastically carried out his orders.

He leaned over her back and whispered into her ear, "now, for one last punishment, at the Commander's discretion."

He clutched her belly with one hand, and with the other reached between her legs and parted her, placing his throbbing member at her sopping wet entrance.

"Do you accept your punishment?" he growled.

"Nate…please…!"

"That's Commander to you!" he yelled furiously, and drove himself into her hard, causing her to throw her head back and yelp. He grabbed her long, blonde hair and pulled her towards him, steadying himself with his other hand. The feel and friction of his flesh pressed against her tenderised skin set her ablaze, exquisite pain and longing surging through her.

Nate continued to thrust as he straightened up and placed the riding crop between Jeni's swollen lips, holding it at both ends. She ground herself against it and felt pressure building in her hips. Nate, sensing her imminent completion, pulled the crop inward and moved in time with her, concentrating and forsaking his own pleasure for a moment. She cried out desperately and slammed her hand against the rack, the blanket bunching into her clenched fist as she collapsed.

Nate set her down and withdrew from her, finishing himself off with his hand and exploding onto her bare skin, causing Jeni to moan softly as he massaged his cool essence into her screaming flesh.

After a few moments to recover, he helped her down and they both dressed themselves. As they grinned at one another, Nate asked, "so, how long will this inventory take to finish?"

Jeni shrugged. "Oh, I don't know, the better part of a week, I expect."

Nate winked at her. "I'll see you tomorrow then, Commander."

"I'll be here," she grinned.


End file.
